


What I Pretend To Be

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2018-12-27 12:45:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian's POV after Justin leaves him for Ian...er, Ethan.





	What I Pretend To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: *Grumble, Grumble* Blasted fiddlers *Grumble, Grumble*  


* * *

Opened up and let you in  
You made me feel alright  
For once in my life  
Now all that's left of me  
Is what I pretend to be

 

“You look like hell, Brian. Good weekend?” Cynthia asked as she handed him a non-fat latte and the files he would need for his ten ‘o clock meeting. 

 

Brian ignored her and took his coffee and files into his office, shutting the door in his assistant’s face. 

 

“What’s up his ass?” Robert from the art department asked as he passed by on his way to the copy room.

 

“Hmm, more like whose ass he wasn’t up,” Cynthia said sardonically. “A hot trick must’ve got away.” She went back to her desk and prepared to face a thankfully rare hostile work environment day.

*

 

“Cynthia! Where the fuck are the boards for Precision Opticals? They were supposed to be done and set up for the presentation twenty minutes ago!” Brian’s voice dropped from a full on shout to a growl, indicating how angry he was. “The goddamn client will be here in less than ten minutes, and I have no ads to pitch them!” 

 

“Sorry, Brian. They’re on the way up now.”

 

“Fuck ‘sorry.’ Just make sure the boards are in place in the next five minutes.” He stormed back into his office and slammed the door, shutting himself away again. 

 

“Wow, whoever he was, he must have really been something,” Cynthia muttered to herself, thinking she hadn’t seen Brian in such a foul mood since…well, not since Justin was attacked.

*

 

Brian scowled at the mock-ups for the over-priced running shoe on his desk. They were just the sort of thing Justin would like. 

 

“Fuck him,” he said to the empty room, “and his…boyfriend.” Brian was barely able to get the word out. Justin had made his choice; as far as Brian was concerned it was long overdue anyway. The kid had expected too much from the very first, he was better off with someone else and now Brian could finally get his life back to normal. Or so he told himself. Only, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Justin.

 

A knock at the door drew his thoughts away from the dangerous territory they were heading for, but that just made him angrier. 

 

“What?” He yelled, shoving the offending ad mock-ups aside and out of sight.

 

Cynthia opened the door just enough to stick her head inside. 

 

“Showtime, Brian,” she said. “The Precision Opticals people are here and I’ve shown them into the conference room.”

 

“Time to be brilliant,” he said, getting to his feet and pushing everything out of his mind except landing the account.

*

 

Brian felt it the second he walked in the loft. Emptiness. Like something vital had bled out of the air, leaving the space nothing but a cold shell. He didn’t need to see the bare hangers in the closet, the open drawer, didn’t need to catalogue the missing items in the bathroom to know that Justin was really gone. He took stock anyway, made a mental list of every single thing missing from his loft, from his life. But more importantly, he noted the things Justin left- his computer, a sweater Brian had bought but never worn because he had let Justin commandeer it before the tags were even off, a fucking picture of Rage and J.T.- but those were only things and ‘things’ Brian could get rid of, it was the memories that bothered him because he knew it was those he was stuck with. 

*

 

“It won’t last, you know.” 

 

Brian looked up from his breakfast at Debbie.

 

“Sunshine and this new guy. It won’t last.” 

 

“Well, it’s none of my fucking business…or concern. I don’t give a shit what he does.” Brian went back to his egg white omelet. 

 

“Uh-huh. Be that as it may, because we all know nothing ever gets to Brian Kinney, you still need to know it isn’t about that other kid. It’s about Justin not getting what he needed from you.”

 

“All I care about is myself, yeah, that’s a well known fact in this fair burg of ours. Justin knew that right from the start, so why should I give a shit if he let himself expect more and get hurt in the process? I don’t do ‘love’ or ‘boyfriends’. He knew that.” Brian swallowed a mouthful of lukewarm coffee, but it didn’t wash the bad taste from his mouth.

 

“Oh, I’m not saying you should give a shit,” Debbie said sweetly, refilling Brian’s cup. “Just know that this Ethan kid won’t last because he’s nothing more than a greener pasture. A rebound fuck, even though neither of them have realized it yet. But the point is, you, in true Brian Kinney form, don’t have to give a shit…just don’t blame Sunshine for being young and stupid, and so much in love with you, that he thought you someday might…give a shit that is.” 

 

She plopped the coffee pot back on the warmer plate and leaned on the counter right in front of Brian. “Don’t punish him for being stronger than Michael was.”

*

 

Stretched out on his bed, Brian took another hit off the joint. ‘He’ would be here any minute. He opened and closed his right hand a few times, his knuckles were still sore…but it was a better pain to focus on than the soreness of the heart he was rumored not to have. He was glad Mikey had accepted his apology, Brian couldn’t lose him too. He also knew Debbie was right, Justin hadn’t done anything Brian wasn’t expecting…and the fiddler wouldn’t last. But that didn’t mean Justin would be back either, or that things would be any different if he was. The thought of Justin moving on and never looking back made the soreness in his chest escalate to a dull ache, but Brian wouldn’t ask him to come back. Brian would never put himself in such a vulnerable position for anyone, not even Justin. 

 

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of his slim build, blond, blue-eyed, three hundred up front, consolation for the night. He closed his eyes and pictured the face haunting his thoughts as well as his dreams. Then he got up to answer the door.


End file.
